Six Feet, Never Under
by Penstrokes of Death
Summary: Disjointed snippets set to the lyrics of "Skulls" by Bastille, all covering the darkening and deaths of (fem)Revan and the (fem)Exile, their friendship, and the things they've left behind. Features some background RevanxMalak and ExilexKavar.


**_A/N: Consider this a disclaimer: I don't really own anything here except maybe the names. The song is Bastille's "Skulls." I'd advise turning it on._**

 ** _Okey Dokey, so I've been absent for FOREVER. But I should be a little less absent now. I am so, so very sorry if anybody here is waiting on a new chapter of What Was Silent Starts to Speak. Anyway, now this story features the Exile under the name of Arusha (Ash, for short). Ash is the Exile of one of my best friends, and her characterisation is... just read all her lines deadpan. This story will have dashes of ExilexAtton, ExilexKavar, and RevanxMalak. And HK. It's also centred entirely on death and other solemn themes, so it's a bit of a downer and not 100% linear._**

* * *

 _I came here for sanctuary_

 _Away from the winds and the sounds of the city_

Revan tugged her hood up again against the driving rain and sighed. Dormund Kaas was content to ignore her presence for the moment, so she wouldn't make too much of a fuss yet. The last time she'd been here she'd had Malak with her, and that had made things both easier and more complicated. Another gust of wind blew her hood off again and she gave up fighting to keep it on and let herself get soaked. The bite and sting of the elements felt good, being raw and exposed after two years of covering up every thought and track.

 _I came here to get some peace_

 _Way down deep where the shadows are heavy_

Arusha threw a rock into the darkness outside the cave. Absolutely nothing happened. It was a nice change of events. The cold of the Siths' world tried to tug her from her firm neutrality, but she had little faith in it. She was very, very good at not caring. It was one of her special skills, one of the reasons she'd come. But then, if she didn't care... she didn't think about that.

 _I can't help but think of you_

 _In these four walls my thoughts seem to wander_

It was funny how it all worked out in the end to where the dead meant more than the living by the time all she had to do was finished. Another ghost added to the list to haunt her- friend or foe, a ghost was a ghost. Her fingers would tap out rhythms to songs she didn't know or had long forgotten. Things started slow at first inside her head, but it grew louder every day that passed and she knew what was coming. Silently, she accelerated their timetable.

 _To some distant century_

 _When everyone we know is six feet under_

The Jedi? Gone. Councils, knights, temples. All gone. Ironic, really, how that played out, for them to be saved -twice now- by the maverick people they feared and reviled most, the ones they had once disclaimed. Against her better judgement, sometimes Arusha mused. Her typical conclusion was that being dead would be the easy way out.

 _When all of our friends are dead and just a memory_

 _And we're side by side, it's always been just you and me_

 _For all to see_

"Come on, we've had worse."

"Yeah? When?"

Revan tugged the black swath of fabric away from the lower half of her face and kicked the last body with her toe, "Two days ago."

"How wonderfully uplifting."

"We need to get this done."

Arusha looked at the blood sliding down the other woman's slide, "I can see that. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine. It was just a graze."

She nodded, "Good."

"I like to think so. You know this is the important part?"

"Yeah."

The younger woman held out a hand and the older one shook it.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

She mumbled something under her breath that Arusha was relatively certain was very final.

"It means... Those who are about to die salute you."

"Ah. Drama queen."

"Only sometimes." Revan pulled her lightsaber back off her belt, "Now let's make an entrance."

 _When our lives are over and all that remains_

 _Are our skulls and bones let's take it to the grave_

The Council members, had they been there to witness the peculiar things the Force was whispering, might have felt relief that their two biggest problems were being dealt with. Some would have mourned that it had come to this, maybe one would have mourned a lost chance and an infinite hurt. The Sith never truly mourned a leader, but they would have scrambled for the secrets no doubt being torn up in the wake of one of their greatest leaders and greatest opponents.

It was amazing, though, that nobody at all really seemed to care.

 _And hold me in your arms, hold me in your arms_

 _I'll be buried here with you_

Arusha leaned back against his shoulder and he sat silently.

"You know-" Talking brought on a wave of pain and she had to finish through clenched teeth, "You could make this go a little faster."

Atton nodded, "I can. You know, Ash, I..."

"I know. And you get it."

"Yeah," He shifted her weight carefully, "I've always gotten it. I'm good at that. See ya round, angel."

"Shut up."

It was much quicker than she expected.

 _And I'll hold in these hands all that remains_

Revan traced the outlines of her mask. She didn't really think it was all that important at the moment, but she couldn't exactly throw it out either. It had been a symbol since she'd found it, no reason for it to stop now. It probably belonged in a museum or something. Maybe she'd take it there one day, or have someone do it for her. More than likely, it would just rust in the dirt.

 _I don't want to rest in peace_

 _I'd rather be the ghost that annoys you_

"Do you realise how much of a knife blade you walk doing all this?"

"Yeah."

"Then why walk it?"

"You know, when you died, I didn't think you'd keep asking me existential questions."

"I have qualifications for it now. Think of it that way."

"I really wish you'd shut up, Ash."

"Well, tough luck."

"You know, if this doesn't end soon, we might get to find out if a Force ghost can die."

"That'd be an experience, wouldn't it? Anyway, knight to E8."

"Rook to F4."

 _I hope you can make me laugh_

 _Six feet down when we're bored of each other_

"Why did she bring you, Rand?"

"She liked me better than the droid."

Revan frowned, "I don't know why."

"Because it's a dangerous psychotic."

"I got less trouble out of it than I did out of you. And it was funnier."

"Oh, that hurts, sir."

She put a hand on his shoulder, "Droids don't get hurt."

"Cute, sir." Especially since she'd almost lost her leg recently and he had two broken ribs. But some things just weren't brought up.

 _A match is our only light_

 _It's day of the dead, I'm Indiana Jones here_

"So," Arusha stretched out her legs on the grass, "What do you believe for an afterlife?"

Alek shrugged, "Reincarnation."

"Most Jedi would say that was impossible," The girl laying across his lap looked up at him, no doubt adding much more to their personal conversation silently.

Arusha cleared her throat to remind the couple that there was a party who _wasn't_ going to dive off into their shared thoughts. Reva grimaced in apology.

"I believe in... I don't know, some kind of transcendence."

"That's wonderfully specific, Rev."

"Well, sometimes I think we go to the future Jedi as guides. I'm not exactly a death expert. Besides, aren't you a nihilist?"

"Can a Jedi even be a nihilist?" Alek pulled his hand through his girlfriend's hair and Arusha wondered if she thought it was sweet or if she wished they'd cut it out.

"Well, I believe our individual identities fade into the Force, so I can be, yeah."

"So the Force is dead people?"

"Pleasant thought."

"Better than being reborn a granite slug." Arusha frowned.

"That's debatable."

"Only if you're attached to your own life. Attachment is a path to the Dark Side."

Reva sat up and stared blankly at the other girl, the height of sarcasm, "Yes, what a place to market that philosophy."

Arusha shrugged, "I guess we'll find out."

 _These coins sit upon our eyes_

 _Pool our funds we'll pay the boat together_

"HK?"

"Acknowledgement."

"I'm scared of dying."

"Commentary: I understand most meatbags are, master."

Revan struggled to sit up against the wall, spending valuable seconds of her life, "But I do want to see them again."

The droid didn't answer and she realised he was already gone. Her last link, gone. She tried to slow her breathing down and just ease into her end, if that was allowed. For the first time, she did worry about an afterlife; she didn't imagine a Sith lord would get much grace. If she was the heart of the Force, though, what if she lost herself? What would that mean for her?

The idea set her struggling against the growing heaviness in her limbs only to hasten her towards the darkness. A cynical corner of her mind told her to pick her last words and she gave it some thought; she had a lot to say about power and fate and war and friendship and lost love... In the end she decided not to try to one-up Arusha for one last jibe, but to go back a little further and cut a little deeper.

"In the end, as darkness takes, I am nothing."

 _When all of our friends are dead and just a memory_

 _We'll lie side by side, it's always been just you and me_

 _For all to see_

In the Temple's library section on ancient Jedi, every archive piece of information was alphabetised, with one exception. Those looking for information on the Jedi Exile and the redeemed Revan would find the two articles side by side. Sometimes Padawans said that if you put them back in order they'd move themselves. Or maybe it was just the librarians had hidden senses of humour. Or maybe the Temple was haunted. Or maybe there was a droid with a glitch. Maybe they were trying out a different system. Nobody really talked about it.

 _When our lives are over and all that remains_

 _Are our skulls and bones let's take it to the grave_

The Exile kicked the pyre, just for good measure. She'd been muttering abuse at it ever since she'd started building it; she'd cursed it because she had to wait until everyone was asleep to do this, because the wood was heavy, because he hadn't had the good sense not to come, because he'd reminded her of the _feelings_ she'd had. She thought she'd moved past feeling anything at all, but now... A long time ago she'd been infatuated with him and then, right before that cursed war... she didn't know if it was really love- it was nothing like what she'd seen from other couples- but it felt like something. Now she felt it again, complete with a dull, hollow ache.

Once one thing came through, others followed, and she started missing people, places, tastes, memories. Her sister, the ensign who used to bring her caf when he thought she was angry (which was frequently), the smell of plants after a rainstorm, even Revan and her cold tactical decisions that had started in games long before the war... his deep breaths moving her hair as he stood just too close behind her.

Right before she lit the pyre, she kissed his forehead, something she'd never done; even if they were romantically involved, they weren't romantic. There had never been any flowers or promises of forever. They were coolly practical people.

She never should have gone to Onderon, and certainly never should have let him back under her skin. Without a single tear on her face, she watched Kavar's body turn to ash. For the bones to burn, she'd have to stay and watch to manipulate the situation with the Force. But that didn't bother her; she was already sinking back down to balance. Now it was less equilibrium as much as apathy, but it made no difference to her.

The next morning someone asked if she was okay and she told them she was and they were surprised because it wasn't a lie or a cover up.

 _And hold me in your arms, hold me in your arms_

 _I'll be buried here with you_

She'd hoped, really, that she would already be dead by now. The Force seemed bent on denying her. Living on memories one didn't have was neither healthy nor possible, no matter how hard she tried. Somehow everyone around her could die, but not her. Cruel fate. Her choice end would have been on the Star Forge, of course, but no such luck. Her vivid imagination supplied plenty of material for fabrications that she had.

It was crystal clear in her mind from the joint fall of lightsabers to the sweltering heat made somehow easier by being held against him. In her imaginings, he had his voice- since it was her fantasy, anything could happen- and could whisper her name to her as they fell (really, she knew, the heat would make the systems fail long before they touched the sun), or tell her it would all be alright, or just that he loved her. She usually liked to end it there, or drag out every second she could imagining his presence so there was a gap of silence between their words and the end.

It was hard to reconcile the life she lived now to one with him in it, or any kind of happy ending at all, but all too easy to imagine it cut short.

 _And I'll hold in these hands all that remains_


End file.
